Survivor's Guilt
by eoraptor
Summary: Oneshot: Something is rotten in the state of Middleton. Short interpretational story.


"_**Survivor's Guilt"**_

By Eoraptor

AN: Kim Possible ©2002-2007 Walt Disney Company

_**- - - - - -**_

Kim panted and wiped her brow, pausing to look at her glove; she wondered when she had cut her forehead. Oh well, no time to ponder that now. Looking up, she scowled at the Scuttler and its repainted dark blue emblems. She couldn't believe Global Justice had been stupid enough to go messing with the automated Lorwardian battle tanks; even Drakken hadn't been _that_ oblivious to how dangerous they were!

And now, of course, just like a reject from a bad Saturday afternoon sci-fi movie, it had broken out of control of its masters and was rampaging through downtown Middleton. Catching what of her breath she could, Kim leapt back into the fight, such as it was. They had been going at this thing for ten solid minutes, and she was at her extremes now. Ten minutes of solid flat-out exertion was a lot different than the fast clashes she usually specialized in, and her body was starting to complain at the extended strain.

Even Ron was showing the strain, his newly suffused powdery blue glow was rapidly fading as he bounded around, getting people out of the path of the monster tank as it marched down Clive street. Rufus, with Wade's help, was reprogramming streetlights in the area, for anyone who was somehow unaware of the rampaging death machine as they drove home from work.

Looking up, Kim licked her lips feverishly. Thankfully, the geeks at GJ hadn't managed to reactivate the Scuttler's blaster weapons. Of course, that left it still with a thick hide of nearly indestructible alien metal, and three razor sharp talon-like legs. The redhead scowled again and reconsidered her plans to go to work for an organization that thought a coat of paint and an iFruit laptop could tame alien war machines when she heard a popping sound.

Refocusing her rapidly dwindling powers of observation, Kim saw the thing spear a large black and red cargo van on one of its tripods. Her eyes flashed up again to the disk shaped upper portion of the scuttle for the fifth time in as many minutes, searching for any way to access its internals. She didn't have Shego's super-heated plasma to sever its legs, not Drakken's unholy plant powers to call forth the flora nearby to crush it, so that left her with her grapple and her brain.

She realized it wasn't enough, as the automata had finally decided she was too much of a distraction to live. Winded and running along at about half of her normal maximum, the teen heroine saw in the split second which she was allowed that she would have no chance to dodge the black and red striped van as the Scuttler flung it towards her from its Wellsian leg.

Dropping her shoulders in defeat, Kim closed her eyes as the pierced van crossed the street with impossible speed. The shriek of bending and twisting metal met her ears as the van impacted her.

No… wait… An infinitesimal eternity later, Kim opened her eyes, realizing that she was not a fine paste of meat and bone beneath the van. The fact that she could still hear the Scuttler tromping away should have been her first clue in the light of the settling sun and the smoke-filled air left in its wake.

Looking up, she was a bit befuddled. The van was crumpled literally in half before her, formed into a closed crescent. A split second later, the remnants of the van began to rock and groan. The redhead blinked dumbly as the U-shaped hulk began to split open before her, and she was greeted with the most bizarre vision yet, and given who was thinking this thought, and the day she was having, that was saying something.

From within the hulk of eighties conversion van stepped Shego. Her costume was nicked and ripped in a few places and she was sweating, which was… well, another level of weird yet for a woman who could melt steel…

Kim shook her head harshly, attempting to clear it. She knew Shego was strong and durable, but that van had to have been moving at least seventy miles an hour; and of course, there was the whole… spreading it open like a warm croissant thing. Rubbing her own cut forehead, Kim tried to concentrate. Shego's Glow flashed out of existence as she darted over to Kim's side.

In the split second it had been visible to her, Kim could have sworn that it was different, somehow richer than her normal electric green. That must have been the thick, acrid smoke from various burning things. It seemed to be distorting the ashy color of Shego's skin as well, giving it an almost oceanic tint.

"Shego… how did you-," She rubbed her head, trying to reconcile her near-death with the mysterious appearance of her nemesis.

"Later, Princess… You've got an alien death machine to stop." She snorted, whipping her long hair out of her own face with a roll of her neck. She turned and hurled a bolt of her energy at the tank, but it splashed harmlessly across the dome. Again Kim was struck by the discoloration of the trademark green in the orange light of dusk and destruction.

"But where did you co-," she pressed, befuddledly.

"I said we'll talk about it LATER!" the response was yelled at her and Kim stepped back, realizing that in addition to sweat, tears were threatening at the edges of the Amazon's vision.

_**- - - - - -**_

_Author's Note: I posted this on a few boards, and the results were widely different from my original intention. So I guess this one is open to the reader's interpretation. Oneshot, so no sequels planned._


End file.
